


If Love is Our Defense

by poisontaster



Series: Transmutation [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath, Multi, Polyamory, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-07
Updated: 2007-01-07
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immediately follows A Day Like Today. Chick flick moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Love is Our Defense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moroven](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=moroven).
  * Inspired by [Transmutation](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/152849) by mona1347. 



When she wakes up and it's just her and Sam, Jess's first thought is, _Oh Christ, not again._

She raises her head from the pillows and looks around blearily, hair hanging in her eyes. The room is kind of grey with dawn light and frowsty with stale candle smoke, incense and sex. Her body still throbs with pent up tension. There's release in getting Dean to break down and admit he's part of this, part of _them_ , mindfuck though that might be, but it isn't the same as orgasm. She'd been too exhausted and too concerned with caring for Dean in the aftermath to get herself—or Sam—off.

She looks at Sam, his face pinched in sleep. It always surprises her, how Sam's face is so open during the daylight hours and Dean's so guarded and how much that reverses when they're asleep. She ruffles a hand through his hair, light enough to not wake him—a skill perfected over the last two years—and he sighs, smacks his lips softly and the tender skin around his eyes unclenches a little.

Jess slides from under the sheet and felted blanket. Away from the heat of her boys—well, boy, right now—the room is cold and she collects the spread that's fallen to the foot of the bed and wraps it around her naked skin, her nipples pinpoints of cold.

One of the dinette chairs is missing and she finds Dean slouched on it, on the porch of the little cabin, his feet up on the railing. Dean looks both tired and kind of shell shocked. Without thinking too much about it, she goes (the wood is _freezing_ under her bare toes) and drapes herself over his lap.

It's what she'd do with Sam. What she has done with Sam hundreds of times back in Palo Alto. A lifetime ago. And now it feels a little weird to be doing it with Dean, except in the way that it's not weird at all. Because she'd meant what she'd said to him last night in their impromptu ritual: that she loves him. She loves him and none of them are quitting or leaving or punking out because this is too fucking _good_ to just…turn their backs on it, no matter how scary it sometimes gets.

His hands come up to support her like this is something they do all the time. She puts her head on his shoulder, feeling small and feminine and just Jess. "You're cold," she observes when she settles enough to feel him shivering under her.

Dean's head moves slightly; stubble glances lightly over her skin. "Nah, not really."

She doesn't say anything, just tugs the spread out so that it covers them both. The hand curved around her side makes slow, gentle, repetitive strokes up and down and Jess closes her eyes, content to just sit like this, with him.

The night bugs are starting to wind down and the birds are beginning the first tentative shout-outs of territory. The cabin's too far from the main road, and the road itself doesn't get enough cars for there to be much traffic noise, so there's only the deep sound of Dean's breath and heart and the softer echo of her own, the baseline to the bird's twittering.

"I love you, Dean," she says, surprising herself at a time when she thought she was almost ready to sleep again, curled up in his arms. "I love _you_. Separate from Sam. Different from Sam. Just 'cause you're _Dean._ I can't believe you don't get that."

The truth is that sometimes she doesn't get it herself; how she can live like this with two brothers, two brothers that were fucking each other long before she even entered the picture.

It doesn't bother her anymore. Now, when they touch each other, it only makes her hot and filled with longing for something she can't quite name. She doesn't know how she can love them, separately and together, with such fierceness. But she has no doubt in her mind she will kill the motherfucker that tries to come between them; burn them and salt the ashes.

This is her life now. They are her life now.

It's a good life.

"I didn't know you," Dean says suddenly. She wasn't really expecting him to talk—this is Dean, after all—and the sound of his voice makes her jump a little. His hands soothe her down again. "When I first saw you? I didn't know that this…" his mouth brushes her forehead, "was even possible. I didn't…"

"I was replacing you," Jess says, because she understands, because she knows, because she's had that dry fire in her own heart. "It's okay that you hated me. I hated you." She feels him tense, bone flexing under her cheek and she settles her weight deeper against him as if she can somehow increase her gravity and mass by will alone. "Not, _you_ , really, because I didn't know… I didn't know that was what Sam was hiding from me. But I knew he was holding back. That I didn't have all of him, all his heart. And I hated that. God, I hated it.

She pauses, trying to collect her meaning. She has to be so careful with Dean; he's so much more fragile than Sam in such strange ways. "But I didn't replace you. And I need you to get that. He holds us separate, the way I hold both of you. He always did."

"No," Dean says. "I mean, okay, yeah, maybe. But what I meant was…" He shifts them around until her head lifts from his shoulder and they're looking each other in the face. "If it had to be somebody. If…there had to be somebody else. It's good it was you." Dean sighs. "I'm glad it was you."

Jess didn't think she still had it in her, for her eyes to prickle hot and teary, for her whole body to feel too small and liquid. It has all the potential to be A Moment and that's just so weird and wrong for both of them that she has to lay her head down on his shoulder and hide her face in his neck.

Finally, after a couple minutes of awkward silence, she chants in a little kid sing-song, "Because you _loooove_ me and think I'm _wooooonderful_ , you're so in _loooove_ with me an' I'ma tell _Saaaammmy_ …"

Dean's arms tighten around her for a second and then he's targeting all the places where she's ticklish, his fingers so much more dexterous than they look, a killer's hands, a lover's hands. Jess is flailing and giggling and the spread is slipping and she's going to be naked in front of Dean and the whole world in just about a second and, for the life of her, she can't bring herself to care.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta duties by maygra and offtheceiling, with my thanks.


End file.
